


An Unexpected Companion

by RoniDrakaina



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:53:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoniDrakaina/pseuds/RoniDrakaina
Summary: This Story marks the awakening of the Inner Took in this particular Baggins and we'll find him taking part in an unexpected adventure, where he will find himself feeling, thinking, saying and doing things altogether unexpected, but what's more in time he'll learn to take pleasure in them...(A Thorin x Bilbo Fanfiction with a slower build-up inspired by the Movies and Bits of the Book. I wish for this to head off in another direction and end differently than the Canon Material.Hopefully this can be the Hobbit Version that us Thilbo Shippers wish for :)
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	1. Good Morning

_My dear Frodo,_

_You asked me once if I had told you everything there was to know about my Adventures... And while I can honestly say I have told you the Truth, I may not have told you all of it... I am old now Frodo, I'm not the same Hobbit I once was. I think it is time for you to know what_ **_really_ ** _happened..._

In a hole in the ground there lived a Hobbit, his name was Bilbo Baggins and he had a fairly normal life for a Hobbit, until one sunny morning...

As Mr. Baggins was sitting on the newly painted bench in his garden in front of his Hobbit-Hole, clad in his usual clothes - a white shirt with a yellow flowered waistcoat on top of it, accompanied by a pale bluish scarf neatly tucked underneath it and a pair of grey-green cropped pants (quite a typical way of dressing for the hobbits of that age), peacefully smoking a bit of 'Old Toby' from his favourite pipe; a Shadow darkened his vision as one of his smoke rings hit him in the nose. He coughed and opened his eyes to look at the person who was blocking the sun from him. It was a tall fellow. He was clad in long grey robes, wore a pointy hat on his head from which his silvery long hair and beard stuck out and he was leaning against an old-fashioned walking stick. It looked almost like a branch, it wasn't very smooth and it had no decorations or cuttings on it - unlike the walking stick that Bilbo had inherited from his late father.

Bilbo stared at the fellow, slightly perplexed by the sight, but not wanting to appear rude, he simply said: "Good Morning."

"What do you mean?" Said the old man with a deep voice looking down at the Hobbit. "You mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not, or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good upon?"

"Eh...all of them at once, I suppose..." replied Bilbo looking back at him confused.

"Hmph.." made the man, his smile slowly fading as he kept looking at Bilbo with an examining gaze. The Hobbit that was sitting in front of him on the wooden bench differed much, both in looks and demeanor, from the little bushy haired lad he used to know from Old Took's Midsummer parties.

The man was still standing there, gazing down at him which made Bilbo slightly nervous, so he asked politely: "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen." Replied the old man, looking at him thoughtfully and a little sceptically. "I'm looking for someone to share in an Adventure." he said widening his eyes at him at the last word for more dramatic effect and to underline the importance of what he had just said.

Bilbo looked at him, mouthing the last word as though he did not understand what it meant. "An Adventure?" he said sounding as surprised and sceptical as the old man had looked a few moments ago. But he quickly got his bearings back. "No I don't imagine anyone west of Bree" he said using his pipe to point in the direction and smirking slightly at the ridiculousness of the thought itself, "would have much interest in Adventures." he ended in a perfectly matter-of-fact voice. "Nasty, disturbing things..." he muttered as he stood up and collected his mail from the neatly carved wooden mailbox by the gate, "...make you late for dinner." he said stucking the pipe back in his mouth and drawing from it, as he sorted through the various letters while doing his best to ignore the old man still standing at his gate.

The bearded man gave him a disappointed look and as the Hobbit turned around and started walking up the stairs to his front door, he actually wondered whether it was possible that the family had moved away from Bag-End and he had gotten the wrong Hobbit... "To think that I should've have lived to be goodmorninged by Belladonna Took's son. As if I were selling buttons at the door!" he said loudly, deciding to move onto the blank-honesty-strategy instead.

Bilbo turned around looking more confused than ever. "Beg your pardon?"

"You've changed and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" replied Bilbo feeling at his wits-end.

"Well you know my name," stated the tall fellow "although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf and Gandalf means...me." he said smiling at the little Hobbit.

"Gandalf...Gandalf" Bilbo muttered the name under his breath trying to recall a memory. "Not Gandalf the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks!" He said, his eyes lightning up with excitement.

Gandalf smiled trying to look humble, but very pleased that Bilbo finally recalled him.

"Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve." he continued. "Dear me, they were splendid, used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!" he said remembering fondly. You will notice already that Mr. Baggins was not quite so prosy as he liked to believe, also that he was very fond of flowers (of which he had plenty in his garden). "No idea you were still in business..." he suddenly added more coldly.

Gandalf's smile disappeared from his face and eyes. "And where else should I be?" he asked half-accusingly.

"Well..hmmph" said Bilbo suppressing a cough and instead drawing a bit more from his pipe.

"Well I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks..." he said with a slight disappointment in his voice. He gazed at him a few more seconds, looking thoughtful and biting his lower lip. "Well that's decided." he finally said, "It will be very good for you and most amusing for me." He gestured at Bilbo and gripped his walking stick as though preparing to leave. Bilbo felt relieved, until Gandalf added: "I shall inform the others."

"Inform who?" Bilbo stuttered. "Wha-No. No!" he said noticing the mischievous twinkle in Gandalf's eyes. "No-wait." he said standing up on the highest step so as to appear bigger. "We do not want any adventures here!" he exclaimed energetically. "Thank you! Not today no-I suggest you try to over the hill or across the water." he said, gesturing with his pipe all around just not at himself and his comfortable home.

While he spoke, Gandalf eyed him with a downright scrutinizing look. He wondered what could've possibly happened to this Hobbit while he was away, that made him change so unrecognizably. Where was the little Hobbit boy who ran around with a wooden sword looking for elves and trolls, trudding mud back home and running to meet Gandalf at the edge of the shire as far as the green forests whenever he were to arrive with his fireworks..? Unless... He muttered under his breath, having a sudden suspicion.

Bilbo made a motion with his pipe which suggested Gandalf should go away. Gandalf looked at him even more scrutinizingly than before. Very well if the wizard wouldn't leave, he would, he did not like where this conversation had went so far. "Good Morning." he said one last time before pushing open his freshly painted green door, slipping inside and locking it as soon as it closed behind him. He sighed with relief as he heard the lock fall into its place.

Then, suddenly another sound disturbed his very short-lived peace, there was a scratching sound...it came from the other side of the door. Bilbo went to the window to see what was happening outside, what on earth was the old man doing to his door?

He couldn't see, then Gandalf moved right in front of the vindow and scared Bilbo away, making him hide by pressing himself against the wooden wall next to the window. Finally, he heard a light shuffling sound and dared to peek out again, just to see Gandalf leaving through his garden gate.

You must understand, it wasn't that Bilbo was impolite to guests, but the prospect of an Adventure truly scared him. In the Shire, Adventures were viewed as something odd. There was a certain expectation from the older generations concerning how a Hobbit should lead his life to be considered respectful: Have good manners, dress well, comb the hair on his feet, have all his 6 meals a day and don't forget the snacks, take daily-care of his garden, keep his flowers looking fresh and his vegetables big, visit all his friends and relatives regularly and take part in their tea-parties where they would discuss the latest gossips, take care of his hobbit parents, meet and marry a lovely hobbit wife, raise many curly-haired hobbit children and invite all his relatives close and extended and their relatives as well to his wedding and all his birthday parties where he would offer lots of food and drinks and gift each and every one with a special and expensive present... And never do anything unexpected or adventurous whatsoever, nothing which the neighbours and relatives might disapprove of.

A Hobbit who would rather run off to Adventure than stay at home, was viewed as irresponsible, unsociable, lazy, childish and his behaviour was considered shameful to all his relatives. If one happened to venture on such a journey, than (if he ever returned) he could be sure that the neighbours would talk about him on many future tea-parties to come. The only approval these adventurers received, was from the hobbit children who admired them and loved to hear their stories.

Bilbo had as a child also loved to hear such stories, he recalled a memory....he was very little and sitting by the armchair of a very old hobbit, it was during one of the parties with Gandalf's fireworks... The Hobbit told him about his grandfather who had once visited the Elves in Rivendell...the tale was enchanting. Bilbo could just picture the tall slender creatures walking on the green hills of the shire... But that had been a long time ago, he had long forgotten his dreams of visiting elves and fighting trolls - that was simply a part of growing up. Fantasies like these were for little hobbit girls and boys but not for older hobbits, especially not for someone like him - A Baggins no less.

The Baggins family was very respected in the Shire, as they were fairly rich and never had any kinds of Adventures. Bilbo's father - Bongo Baggins was a shining example of these values - traditional, home-loving and very down-to-earth. He had prided himself in the fact that the furthest he ever went from home, was across the river to the 'inn of the merry Proudfoot'. And he had only been there twice in all of his life. Once when Bilbo was born, and the other time when he had married Belladonna Took.

Belladonna Took, was Bilbo's Mother and in Bilbo's Memories she shared much of his father's down-to-earth-quality, yet there was also something slightly different about her. He was often told by his other relatives and sometimes jealous neighbours, that his late mother had been of extraordinary beauty. She was one of the three remarkable daughters of the old Took - head of the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the food of The Hill. Indeed there was an old rumor concerning the Took family and their roots. It was often said (in other families) that one of the Took ancestors must've taken a fairy wife, whose beauty Belladonna and her sisters inherited. This was most probably not true, but certainly there was something not entirely Hobbit-like about the Took Clan and this was further supported by the fact that members of the Took Family, would from time to time go missing and turn up months later telling tales of extraordinary places and beings. The family always hushed it up discreetly, but the fact remained that the Tooks were not as respectable as the Bagginses, though they were undoubtedly richer.

Not that Belladonna Took ever had any adventures after she became Mrs. Bungo Baggins. For an outsider, Bilbo very much resembled his reservative father, to great extent in looks and behaviour and yet there was no denying that Belladonna Took's only son also got something a bit more Queer in his make-up from his mother's side. Be it his features, which were softer and more elegant than those of his father, lighter in colour more like his mother's, his love of flowers or his love of books which began as soon as Belladonna Took read her baby son his first one.

This more adventurous queer side of him - his Took part - had now lain dormant for many years. Bilbo had learned that his neighbourhood was not too fond of it and had rather began to behave according to their expectations...not wanting to stick out so to speak.

But this Story marks the awakening of the Inner Took in this particular Baggins and we'll find him taking part in an unexpected adventure, where he will find himself thinking, saying and doing things altogether unexpected, but what's more, in time he'll actually learn to enjoy himself at it...

He may have lost the neighbour's respect forever, but he gained, well you will see whether he gained anything in the end...


	2. Life in the Shire as usual

After this very unlikely and strange event, Bilbo headed straight for the pantry, he had only just had breakfast, but he thought a cake or two and a drink of something would do him good after his fright. He trotted down the corridor which was tube-shaped like a tunnel. It was very comfortable, with panelled walls and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs and lots of pegs for hats and coats - the Hobbit was quite fond of visitors.

Hobbit-holes are always very comfortable and Bag-End was especially beautiful and luxurious - built by Bilbo's father for his beautiful wife - and partly with her money. The tunnel wound on and on, many round doors opened on its sides. There was no going upstairs or downstairs for the Hobbit; indeed bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (he had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over his garden and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river. Bag-End was built into a hill, the Hill as many around called it. It stood high overlooking the other hills and round hobbit doors, it was very green and beautiful and Bilbo put a lot of effort into keeping his home that pretty.

He had lots of time for it too, since he was a very well-to-do hobbit, having inherited lots of money from both his father's and mother's side of family, since both the Bagginses and the Tooks were counted amongst the richer hobbit families. This is why he did not have to have a permanent occupation like some of the other hobbits, he had enough money to go on and plenty of time for all his favourite activities.

Bilbo stayed in for the rest of the day, not daring to go farther than his garden, in case Gandalf was still around. He did not wish to run into him, not after their morning conversation, which had left him flustered and scatterbrained for the whole noon and afternoon - so that he almost forgot and burned the seed-cakes he was baking for his tea-time snack.

That evening he didn't find it easy to fall asleep, everytime he closed his eyes disturbing images appeared in the empty blackness before him... The outlines of mountains and smoke rising into the night, the yell of riders with swords and dragon-flame burning brighter than the stars outside of his window. He had also dreamed that a band of dwarves invaded his house and ate up all of his food. This made him wake up quite ill tempered and hungry at the same time. "What a nasty dream." he thought to himself. "What a good thing that I rejected the wizard's offer, otherwise who knows what kind of trouble I could've been in right now." that was what he was thinking that morning, and that is what he continued to believe for the rest of the day, that is until evening arrived, but we'll get to that part in due time.

For now Mr. Bilbo Baggins still felt quite content and at peace with his life, thinking that he had escaped adventures very well.

"Wizards don't usually stay in one place for too long" he thought to himself. "They're the sort of people who come and go, rarely even staying for tea, a queer bunch they are." this is how he persuaded himself to get out of the house, telling himself that Gandalf was surely far over the hills by now. And also the hunger drove him out...his pantry felt half empty after his stress-overeating last evening. It was, in fact still quite full, but Hobbits like to keep a lot of food reserve in their house, especially if they feel stressed out or nervous about something. 

And so Mr. Bilbo Baggins went to one of his clothes-rooms and picked out a favourite coat of his to ensure a better mood for the rest of the day. It was a petrol blue-coloured coat, he wore the same trousers, shirt and waistcoat as the day before; by this he subconsciously hoped to erase yesterday's events and make sure that today they would unfold differently.

He tied a scarf around his neck that matched well with the outfit and glanced into the mirror, mustering his reflection, before leaving the room. Hobbits like to look their best when going outside among the neighbours, and Mr. Bilbo Baggins had his own unique sense of fashion. He did not comb his hair, hobbits prefer to keep them naturally curly and Bilbo never felt any great need to try and tame the golden-chestnut-coloured mess on his head.

He grabbed a basket and left his house for the market. Outside he was instantly pulled out of his thoughts by the usual buzz and talks of the neighbouring hobbits. There went Mr. Ponto Pott with his tamed bull and there was Mr. Halfast Harfoot greeting him. Old Mrs Asphodel Goodenough with her daughter Dora stood in the garden outside of their hobbit-hole with a yellow painted door, while a few meters away her granddaughter Lalia was hanging the laundry on the clothesline.

On the way to the market, Bilbo was greeted by all his neighbours and he greeted all of them back politely, but he did not stop looking around and behind him every now and then. Despite his own pep talk back in Bag-End, he couldn't quite shake off the feeling that the wizard was still around here somewhere.

This thought kept him distracted the whole way. Only when he arrived at the market did the loud buzz of hobbits-talking, craftsmen working and children playing, drown out his thoughts for a few moments. He blinked in the sunlight several times, before getting used to the light and noise and then suddenly it was all back to usual: He was Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo Baggins and Belladonna Took, he was a Hobbit and he lived in the Shire, and this is where he would always live for this was where he belonged - safe and sound amongst the other hobbits, who were so blissfully unaware of how narrowly he had escaped a queer adventurous path, which the wizard had tried to send him off on. Good thing he had outwitted him in such a clever manner, now he got to be here amongst all his beloved...neighbours.

He made his way through the throng consisting of: old hobbits sitting on benches talking, smoking and sticking out their feet into the sunlight, middle-aged hobbits walking around talking with their friends or stopping for a drink, little-hobbit girls jumping and dancing around in circles, hobbit-boys chasing each other around the stands, grandparents and parents playing games with their young children and hobbits standing at stands and choosing from the goods that the craftsmen- and farmer-hobbits were selling.

Yes this was Bilbo's Shire, familiar and predictable, on an ordinary day he might have thought this scene to be slightly over-used if not a teeny bit boring perhaps, but his meeting with the wizard had reminded him of what was really important. This morning was particularly pleasant as the sun was shining and there weren't much clouds to be seen. Many hobbit-ladies used the opportunity to put on their fine dresses and hats with dried or crafted flowers. Most hobbit-ladies did it to impress their neighbours or make them jealous, young hobbit-misses did so to try and catch the eye of some of the young hobbit-lads and old hobbit-grandmas did so to remember the fond memories of what it was like when the hobbit-lads used to chase after them. Our Mr. Baggins was however, not very impressed by any of these sort of female intrigues, he found them ridiculously obvious and had always found himself wondering a little, why it always managed to make the other hobbits go to them like bees to honey.

He passed by Mr. Blanco Burrows and took a step to the side to get around his pet pig. He bid both of them a good morning and turned around hastily walking to the fisherman stand. He has just spotted Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, a relative of his which he disliked deeply and whom he did not wish to have a conversation with, if it could be avoided. He greeted the young Smallburrow selling the fish and picked one of his finest looking merchandise. As he waited for Mr. Smallburrow to pack his order, he looked around slightly anxious, his eyes scanned over Mr. Cotton and his birds, Mrs. Brandagamba picking out a necklace and holding it to the sunlight to Mr. Madoc Chubb-Baggins playing with his son Minto, rocking him on his knees. These two were relatives of his, and he was glad to see them in good health. The two noticed him and waved at him, Bilbo gave them nod just as Mr. Smallburrow tapped him on the shoulder, giving him his package. Bilbo thanked him, bowing slightly and gave him the required amount of coins in exchange.

He turned around and started walking to Madoc Chubb-Baggins who was still waving at him, motioning for him to come closer. So Bilbo did, upon arriving he smiled at both of them.

"Good Morning Bilbo." said Madoc, while his son Minto merely laughed a high-pitched laugh. He was quite adorable with his pointy ears sticking out from underneath his bushy hazelnut hair, pink cheeks and bluish eyes. "How are you, I didn't see you here yesterday, is something up?"

"Hello, Madoc. No, no, nothing is up. Nothing at all. I was just...very immersed in a good book." Bilbo said grinning. "How are you doing? How is Amelia?"

"Oh we're all quite fine, thank you for asking. Amelia is over there selling her beautiful cabbages, would you like some?"

"No, thank you." Bilbo replied politely. "I do believe I still have the lot in my pantry which you gave me the last time. But I'm sure they're very delicious, actually, I was planning to make a cabbage soup today." he quickly added in order to not offend Mr. Madoc and his wife.

"Good, then I pray you enjoy it. Have a good day Mr. Baggins." said Mr. Madoc taking of his hat and waving him goodbye.

"You too!" Bilbo called back already walking away, for he had just seen something, something which looked disturbingly familiar. He hastened his pace.

"Hello Mr. Baggins." said a voice. Bilbo stopped unwillingly and turned to see a friendly round hobbit in a green and brown chequered waistcoat with brown trousers and a straw hat on his head smiling at him, he was a friend of his and a farmer. He always liked to show him his harvest, and sure enough this time was not exception. 

"Here, have a feeling of my tubers." he said, holding up a big celery root. Bilbo put his hand on it. "Nice and firm they are," he said looking at Bilbo for a reaction. "Just come in from West Valley."

"Hmm yes very impressive Mr. Warry." Bilbo said distractedly, glancing around. "Now I don't suppose you've seen a wizard lurking around these parts?" he asked.

"Tall fellow," said Mr. Warry crossing his arms. "Long grey beard, pointy hat." Bilbo suddenly jumped behind Mr. Warry hiding himself, for he had just spotted Gandalf's grey hat. "Can't say I have." Mr. Warry continued while Bilbo was already scuffing off in the direction of the bridge, but looking back he saw in the distance a tower of baskets and sacks with one grey pointy sack on top. So it had not been Gandalf after all. He sighed relieved and went home meeting no other surprises along the way.

At home, he ate his second breakfast before sitting up outside on the bench, but this time with a thick book which he could pretend to be deeply immersed in, in case anyone tried to disturb him this time. But it had turned out to really be an interesting book, it was an old one with lots of drawings of maps in it and Bilbo loved maps. For lunch he cooked the cabbage soup he had promised to make. Afterwards he used the time to clean a few rooms, including the kitchen, dining room and the pantry, neatly sorting out all his food supplies and making mental notes when he noticed one of the ingredients running short. He then prepared a pastry and put it on the window-sill to rise before laying down and taking a pleasant nap.

This time his sleep had not been interrupted by any nightmares. He had dreamed of the delicious pastry cakes that he was going to bake himself for after-dinner and in the dream he got the idea that a bit of green-mint tea would go well with it.

So as soon as he woke up, he got up and got to work, putting the teakettle on the stove and moulding his pastry cakes and decorating them with raisins before putting them in the oven. He used the time it took for them to get baked to have his first dinner - a bowl of the cabbage soup which he had for lunch. There was still quite a lot of it left, he was going to leave it for tomorrow. He set off to prepare his second dinner, peeling and brewing potatoes with carrots and frying the fish he had bought that morning.

He had woken up as the sun was already low on the horizon, so by the time he took out his pastry cakes and put them on the windowsill to cool off, the sky outside had already acquired a dark shade of blue. He put the potatoes, carrots and fish on his plate and decorated them a few spinach leaves making a nicely colourful combo. He sat at the table, sighing as he rested his legs, he was already in his beige-brown dressing gown. He put on his napkin, poured the tea in his mug, added a pinch of salt and lemon to his dinner and was just about to start eating when -

The doorbell rang.

Bilbo froze, his hand hovering in mid-air still squeezing the lemon. Who on earth, could possibly come and ring on his doorbell at this ungodly hour ? He stood up and went to the door, muttering and almost cursing under his breath on the way there, for having been disturbed from his meal like this. "Who would disturb a Hobbit at this hour ?" he wondered. anyone with any bit of sense in them knew not to disturb his neighbours during late hours, especially at dinner time; and more importantly who was this person that they were not inside and having dinner themselves, as was normal at this time of the evening. Whoever it was, they couldn't have very good manners. Still, Bilbo opened the door, a bit curious nonetheless to see who it was. He pulled on the doorknob of his green door and was very surprised at what he saw.

There stood before him, clad in a brown cape with metal clips and warm brown fur sticking from underneath it, with a half-bald head on the upper part but with lots of bushy brown hair and beard on the lower part, strong eyebrows, piercing eyes, a firm nose and great metal rings decorating his ears - a full-grown dwarf.


End file.
